Childs Play
by psychout79
Summary: My names Shawn,and i'm three!"shawn reverses 26 years.


_hi this is my first fic...ever, so be nice! i do not own psych or any of its characters._

_"The Great Transformation"_

Burton "Gus" Guster strolled casually through the door to his spare room where his best friend was no doubt sleeping in. One look inside told him Shawn was not yet up. There were no sounds from the bathroom, and the man had yet to wander across the hall for breakfast. It wasn't exactly surprising that Shawn hadn't awoken; he had a tendency sleep straight till noon if no one disturbed him.

He didn't bothering to knock there either; it would certainly not be the first time he walked in on Shawn sleeping. "Hey Shawn, get up or I'm going to the station without you," he drawled wryly, shoving the door open with an echoing _bang!_

There was no response – no grunt of annoyance, not muffled "go 'way", not even a pillow thrown in his direction. For the first time, Gus noticed that something was missing from the room.

Namely, the very person he was looking for.

Shawn had definitely gotten into bed the night before, because the covers were in disarray, crumpled and half on the floor. But he didn't need to check to confirm that Joey wasn't under those covers – an empty bed is an empty bed .He frowned in confusion, surprised by his miscalculation. If shawn wasn't here, then where –

The covers rustled, and he jumped back in shock, his hand automatically shooting out to snatch the nearest thing to protect himself – in this case, a big foam finger from some long-forgotten hockey game. He paused, half crouched in defensive mode, straining to hear over his own labored breathing.

The covers rustled again.

He tensed. Then slowly, as though approaching a wild alien that might jump out and suffocate him with its tentacles, Gus inched forward, holding the foam finger like a sword. He craned his neck, trying to determine what exactly was moving. Unless…dear god, unless it was the covers themselves that were alive –!

There was a sudden burst of activity on the bed, and gus dove to the floor with a rather girlish "Gyaa!" shielding himself with the foam finger he still held, clutched in his fist so hard that his knuckles turned white. He fought the urge to bolt from the room like the hounds of hell were on his heels. The covers-monster was coming after him, he was sure of it. It would reach out with those fluffy, cotton tendrils, and trap him like a ten-foot boa would trap a mouse, then proceed to squeeze the life out of him before digesting him slowly.

"Hello?"

Someone was speaking, he realized as the sounded somehow penetrated his panic-fogged brain. He blinked. Funny, he didn't think that monsters could talk. Or that they would have such high voices and sound like a teletubbie on helium.

"Hello?"

And _there_ was the voice again. Maybe he should answer. He certainly didn't want to upset it. That would be a Very Bad Thing. "Hello?" he ventured back timidly, peeping up over his foam finger.

"Hello," the voice sounded again. It didn't sound any more hostile than a hummingbird. "Where are you?"

"If I tell you, will you promise not to eat me?" Gus shot back, miffed that he'd been all worked up over a monster that didn't eat people and sounded like it was a three-year-old child.

Oh wait a minute…there was a chance that it could be an _actual_ human child…

He stood up. There, sitting in the middle of the bed, dwarfed up the full-size mattress and a t-shirt several dozen sizes too big and peering up at him curiously, was a little boy.

He was ridiculously cute, with wide brown eyes, set in a round, cherubic face, partially hidden by dark bangs that flopped over his forehead. His messy dark locks hung down in the back, curling up to the nape of his neck. His entire body was hidden by the t-shirt that looked like a circus tent on him, he was so tiny. Sleeve-covered arms clutched tightly at Gus's stuffed penguin, making for a comical sight as Hugsy was nearly as big as him. A picture of a little puppy in a basket suddenly flashed through Gus's overloaded mind.

"Hello," the child piped up, for the fourth time. "Who are you?"

"G-Ggu-Gu-Gus. Gus , my name, it's, Gus. Who are _you?_" the man stuttered in the way only Gus can.

The boy giggled, crawling out on top of the sheets spread around him, still holding Hugsy by the wing. It was easy to see how Gus had missed him at first; he was so small he barely made a bump bigger than a pillow. "I'm Shawn!" the child announced, like it was the most important thing anyone could have ever wanted to know. "I'm three!" Three cubby little fingers were held up to emphasize his point.

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what do you think? please review

kazzy xoxo


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